


Permanence

by mosvalsky



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Father/Son Incest, Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:36:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosvalsky/pseuds/mosvalsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could still hear the clack of heeled boots echo against the solemn halls of Imladris. </p><p>Follow-up to/elaboration on Distant Dreams</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I promised this like two months ago and I am sorry it took me so long .-. 
> 
> Some basic background:  
> Non- Peter Jackson canon. Goddammit PJ I love you but you're fucking up my timelines.  
> The council in this is a sort of casual precursor to the Council of Elrond
> 
> Also: the lyrics are basically the fault of The Fellowship, who did this cover of The Battle of Evermore: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSqGC5jsiDQ  
> You might consider checking it out before reading.
> 
> ~ gold star and A+ if you get all my dumb references in this ~

Elrond Peredhel. For all his elven grace and glory, it was he that could be traced back to the start of it all. 

Or at least, that’s what it seemed like to Legolas, who was sitting under the stars reflecting on the distant past. He could still hear the clack of heeled boots echo against the solemn halls of Imladris. He could feel the air thicken around him and his skin burn and tingle as he walked right into an ill-fated piece of perfection, a moment of permanence from the most fleeting chance. 

They were there purely for reasons of state. It was keeping up appearances, and despite Thranduil’s initial reluctance based in superficial resentment towards the Noldo Lord, he insisted that there was a level of peace between the two realms that needed to be shown, which would require the occasional amiable visit to the Last Homely House. 

Legolas, being prince and having far surpassed his majority, was dragged along this particular time. Thranduil figured it would be a good political move to have his son and future successor with him. Legolas scoffed at the thought now.

When they arrived, they were ushered in as honored guests. Elrond was waiting for them at the entrance to the city as they rode in and greeted them and extended a warm welcome (the sincerity of which they couldn’t help but question) as they dismounted their horses. He led them into the inner entrance and began a basic sort of tour, which was mainly for Legolas, who was fairly lost in wonder at the grandeur of the place, and still unfamiliar with the landmarks and places of interest. Really, he hardly paid attention to the lord’s words and barely glanced at the places he beckoned to, but he nodded vigorously to make it seem like he was interested. He was far more fascinated by the place itself than Elrond’s explanation of it. The hills had caught his eye and weren’t loosening their grip on it, and the lord’s voice was becoming softer and softer until the scenery was so loud that he heard nothing. 

“Legolas, are you coming?” Despite his soft tone, a hint of irritation could be heard in Thranduil’s questioning voice.

“Yes-my apologies,” He replied, adding for Thranduil’s benefit, “The realm is just so beautiful. I seem to have gotten lost in it.” To his pleasure, he caught a smile tug at the corner of the Mirkwood ruler’s lips. Elrond, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed at all and continued his long discussion of all the long and intensely uninteresting history of every single building, statue, and plant in Imladris. 

Luckily for Legolas, they had arrived rather later than they expected, and it soon became sunset, which, even more than being one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen, became a great excuse for the cessation of Elrond’s boring lecture. 

Noting that traveling must have been rough on the two of them, Elrond finally politely showed them to their rooms, and then bid them farewell until the morrow.

The arrangement was very private and comfortable, and the decoration, as well as layout, was fairly elaborate. On the first floor was an immense and beautiful bath, lined with marble and topped with a waterfall that fell along stones from the top floor. The upper level had several bedrooms, two of which were reserved for the two wood elves, a lovely parlor, and a library, which was not nearly as large as many others in Imladris, but still impressive. 

After Elrond had left them, they took to simply looking around and exploring, fully savoring their awe. Their quarters were better than they had hoped for, and they seemed intent on using them to their full potential. Yet, dusk fell sooner than they expected, and they found they could do all they could that day. With a calm smile on both their faces, they exchanged their final evening words and went to their separate rooms.

The next day was scheduled to be a bit more exciting. There was to be a meeting with various counselors and officials, which held prospects of interest to Thranduil, though not so much to Legolas. But, it would be followed by a pleasant evening of food and song, which sounded very nice all around. 

As it happened, much as expected, Thranduil was enthralled in the discussion of the situation of both realms and further lands, though for the most part, he maintained a bored expression. The knowledge of that- that despite his disinterested, distant gaze, he was vastly interested in the subject- was also the only thing that Legolas found entertaining throughout the counsel, though he managed to keep the appearance of paying careful attention to all the words spoken. 

By the end of it, both parties were exhausted. Their tongues were parched and their heads were dizzy, and the idea of rest, with excellent drink and delightful music, sounded perfect. They gladly followed the lord of Imladris to the main hall, where they noted that great harps were set up and a feast was prepared.

It took some time for everyone to settle into the hall, but once the feast began, the massive table was buzzing with life. Elrond was seated at the head of the table, Thranduil at his right and Legolas at his left. There were several counselors sitting next to them, and various nobles. Legolas recognized few of them, and the ones he knew, he had only been introduced to that day, so he found himself hardly speaking to anyone, besides an occasional word to his father or Elrond, who gently tried to prod him into conversation. Thranduil on the other hand seemed to know everyone, and chatted with everyone around him. 

It was a lengthy feast, and Legolas had begun to feel rather unsettled, until the music began. Without introduction, the first harpist walked in and took a seat at his instrument. Legolas turned immediately when he heard the first strum, which was slowly followed by a low voice.

“The queen of light took her bow

And then she turned to go

The prince of peace embraced the gloom

And walked the night alone”

At the cue of the last word, several other elves entered, harmonizing with the first musician and taking their seats at the other harps.

“Oh, dance in the dark of night

Sing to the morning light” 

The harps sung as beautifully as the elves themselves, spinning under their fingers in complicated rhythms. Legolas quickly found himself immersed. It was well-known among mortals that elven melodies can mesmerize the unsuspecting listener, and within minutes, the elven prince found himself fully believing it. His body was tingling and he felt dazed, perfectly at peace.

When the song ended, Legolas looked around and saw that most others at the table were similarly affected, Thranduil in particular. The applause was uproarious and there were many shouts of “another!” which left the harpist with very little choice in the matter. 

The musician, as well as the musicians following him, and the audience, went on in that manner for some time, until the sun began to lower into the earth and set the sky ablaze. When all was dark, though, there became a tacit understanding that the gathering, pleasant as it was, was at a close, and the elves slowly began to file out. Eventually, only Legolas and Thranduil were left there with Elrond.

And after a little further conversation with the lord, they too fell to the desire for repose.

~

It was indeed fairly late. The sky was dark, and the city was quiet. But some orange light still shone in from the darkening sunset, and quiet, distant singing of elves could still be heard, so it was apparent to the two Greenwood elves that there was still some time left in the day.

And, once away from Elrond and his company, they finally had time to further enjoy the quarters they had been allowed to stay in. For both of them, on reentering the rooms and seeing again the beautiful fountainous baths, this meant one thing. 

Every single one of Legolas’ muscles relaxed immediately as he entered the bath, and the heavy heat of the water sent shivers through him. Settling into place on one of the submerged ledges, he threw an offhand glance to Thranduil, who was still at the side of the room, undressing casually. 

Though, he seemed to be taking a rather long time. Maybe, Legolas mused, he had worn his robe with all the extra buttons today to impress Lord Elrond. 

“How’s the water?” Thranduil inquired over his shoulder, still struggling with his buttons. 

“Perfect," Legolas practically moaned, “Why don’t we have baths like this at home?”

“We do,” Thranduil replied, a tinge of humor in his voice, “You just don’t know where they are.”

Legolas laughed. That was probably true. Mirkwood would hardly be Mirkwood if all its secrets were unguarded. Although it would have been nice if he were told this earlier. He sank further into the water, his head nearly submerged. “Do you need some help over there?” He said at length, “You’re missing out on this.”

“I’ve got it,” Thranduil snapped back. Which was actually true, as he had finally pried the final button from its place and shrugged the robe off. Legolas caught sight of his naked shoulders before looking away to let him remove the rest of his clothing.

He heard his footsteps come closer before his figure entered his vision. His lean, elegant form stepped gingerly into the water, but after the initial carefulness, he seemed to float into it. He let a stream of air escape him as he fully entered the pool. 

“See? It’s amazing.”

“Mmm…” Thranduil replied. He fell gently back against the stone siding of the bath and let his head fall back. He certainly looked calmer than Legolas was used to seeing, and he couldn’t help but grin a little at it.

Opening his eyes at last, Thranduil caught sight of his son’s lopsided grin and narrowed his eyes, “What?”

“Hmmm?” Legolas replied nonchalantly, “nothing…just….” Thranduil prodded him with his eyes. “I don’t think anyone in the court has ever seen you this calm,” he finished, hoping his father would take it as humor.

At first glance, it seemed like he would laugh, the corners of his mouth and eyes twitching with the slightest mirth.

But then they set back and his face gained too-serious composure. “Are you suggesting,” Thranduil began, looking keenly at him and raising voice as he went on, “that I,” He sat up suddenly from his very comfortable-looking position, causing wide ripples in the water, “King Thranduil,” He took a step towards him, “Ruler of the woodland realm,” Another step, “Would ever,” Another, “Be anything,” Oh Valar, he was close, “But calm?”

Time came to a halting stop as the prince’s father walked towards him. He stood quickly without thinking, and his thoughts were flying into his mind faster than he could control them, and, against all lack of reason, a certain level of panic overcame him, and all he could think was that his father was so close, and very much bare, and so very close. He was right before his face, staring intently at him, his eyes twinkling and his lips twitching. 

“Yes,” Legolas replied finally, pushing the syllable out firmly. A feeling of relief washed over him from just managing to say something.

Thranduil laughed, but pretended to take a fighting stance, egging his son on. “You’ll soon regret those words!”

“Oh?” Legolas challenged. He looked hard at him and launched his hands forward, meaning to push him with all his might, but Thranduil stepped aside and he lost his balance, falling face-forward into the pool.

After some spluttering, he emerged, dripping and grinning brilliantly. “You cheated.”

“Naturally.”

In an instant, Legolas lunged for him, and this time Thranduil was unprepared to evade him. He launched straight into his torso, his arms hooking around his neck so that he fell backwards into the water. Then they were both spluttering and laughing and limbs started flying and a complete dizziness of fake punches and wrestles ensued and Legolas couldn’t remember why all this mock fighting started. It seemed to be the same on Thranduil’s end too because the hits were increasingly less hard and every hold he got him in became softer and more endearing until Legolas felt a certain warmth begin to creep through him. Through all the touches, and the endless skin against skin.

And then there was the horror of realization of the consequence of their nude forms. It really struck him hard and suddenly, and Legolas hoped against all odds that his father would not notice. He blushed furiously and weakly attempted to hide his head, but unfortunately, that made the situation even more readily apparent to Thranduil. 

He could tell the exact moment his father noticed that his half-erect penis was pushing against him, and he felt immensely sick every passing second that Thranduil remained silent. He just stared with confusion and disbelief occasionally interchanging on his face, until the reality set in, and he fully recognized that he was in fact in physical contact with his son’s erection. After that, it didn’t take long before the Elvenking scrambled away from him, the sound of the violent splashing of the water barely covering his desperately guttural utterances as he rushed out of the pool and grabbed his robe. He wasted no time then, putting it on as he went his way back to his own rooms, leaving Legolas horrified at the unintentional action that so unsettled his father. 

He sunk back into the water, leaning against the siding and watching helplessly as his father fled from him. Confusion and remorse pooled in his eyes and clouded his mind. He never would have meant for that to happen. He just seemed to be hit all of a sudden with this fierce…

He hesitated to use the term “desire.” Heat, perhaps. Because it wasn’t as if he desired Thranduil, his direct flesh and blood. That would be preposterous and the idea was almost slanderous. 

He sunk further into the water. He was grateful at least to be surrounded by warmth, but a defeated sigh escaped him. Embarrassment was burning him like an iron brand, and he was doing all he could to avoid thinking of the painful truth in what had just happened. That he had never experienced something so awful, so terribly, disgustingly despicable. To cause his father to flee from him, running in fear from something so unreal. 

All he could do was to think of what happened as an accident. Poor timing, or an unjust physical reaction. The bath was just so nice…it must have been that. Or something.

In any case, it was nothing to cause his father to run away so carelessly frightened. Because the cause was absolutely not what Thranduil must have thought. No, it was not because of any desire for him, or for the feeling of his warm, soft skin and gentle strength as he embraced him. No, none of that.

Nothing near that.

His head was throbbing and he was growing hotter by the second. With a sudden exclamation of frustration, he found himself jumping out of the pool and heading to his own quarters. Sitting and thinking was doing him no good, but perhaps sleep would help. 

~

The next day was scheduled to be even more hectic, with meetings all day that unfortunately started early, meaning that Legolas had to meet his father first thing in the morning to set off to meet Elrond. 

Unsurprisingly, his father refused to look at him. He himself only allowed a brief glance at him to find that his eyes were cold and hard. His presence was only acknowledged with an odd wave of the hand, a wordless gesture to follow. Even worse, he found himself following along without any semblance of dignity, begrudgingly but wholly accepting the lack of greeting or eye contact. 

The trudge through the halls and Gardens of Imladris followed the same pattern; an air of stifled unease followed them, and the ability to breathe seemed to become less and less accessible. And despite all hope, it seemed to be naïve to think that the interchange between father and son would be ignored by those around. Legolas could feel eyes roaming between the two, calculating solemnly with the brutal minds the elves of Imladris were known to possess. A sense of vulnerability gradually began to overwhelm him as he and Thranduil walked on towards the main hall that Elrond asked them to meet him in. 

And the idea that Elrond, when he saw them, would find nothing odd in their behavior was just unrealistic. Thranduil may have never been known to be particularly kind or generous with his affections, but this was an apparent aberration, one that the Noldor elf seemed unlikely to ignore. 

It was clear something was off. Legolas was still tailing his father, keeping a fair distance, and making sure his eyes were kept firmly on the ground so as to prevent any unnecessary glances in Thranduil’s direction. He could only imagine how much Elrond would have picked up on. 

He did keep any observations to himself as best he could though. However, unfortunately for Legolas, he was very bad at keeping things to himself. 

But he wouldn’t have been too embarrassed about it if Elrond hadn’t made it so clear that he had noticed the peculiar air between them. If Elrond hadn’t opened his mouth to say something to Thranduil, then glanced quickly to Legolas and shut his jaws like a trap, then he would likely feel a lot better about the situation. But it was clear to Elrond, as was everything else, and the idea that anything wouldn’t be clear to him caught him in a mild laughing fit. 

But at least Elrond did not know the source of the behavior, which was the only blessing Legolas could imagine possessing at the moment. Though it definitely seemed to him that everything was getting worse by the second. An odd knowing smile seemed to cross the lord’s lips, and the idea that he could sense the fear that had come over him was unbearably plausible. 

The moment though, while unbearable, was fleeting, and Elrond had quickly returned to his original serious composure. “I just came to warn you,” he said with a hard voice, “there will be a dwarf among us, and it is imperative that you do not anger him.”

“A dwarf?” Thranduil replied, incredulity marking his voice, “What business does a dwarf have here?”

“There are matters that must be attended to here beyond any petty rivalries between the races,” Elrond answered unfazed. 

Thranduil blanched faintly. “I will not upset him if he does not upset me.”

“Very well. Now, let us go. The council awaits.”

Legolas hesitated before following the lord and the king to the antechamber he was familiar with waiting in before councils. It was well lit and filled with flora that looked and smelled heavenly. Just the thing to soothe any nerves…which was likely the intention. Having so many different people in one place, discussing and arguing very heavy subjects, was bound to stress out anyone. And it did help the prince, who was still shaky from the awkwardness with Thranduil. He almost forgot about it entirely, which perfectly freed his mind for the weighty discussion bound to occur soon.

Thranduil and Legolas were then led to the massive chamber the council would take place in. It was both surprisingly airy and oppressive, and Legolas felt a mix of awe and nervousness hit him.

Everyone else was already seated, so they nodded greetings before taking their seats and ignored the eyes following them. Finally, Elrond took his place in the front of the chamber, where he made all the necessary introductions, and then began the intense discussion that they were there for.

It seemed like every word he spoke brought a little more darkness to them until the sky grew grey and clouded and their thoughts cleared of anything happy. Yet somehow at the end of his lengthy speech, he spoke several words of hope and the feeling of gladness returned with the offering of a slight but genuine smile. 

 

It was his understanding that there was a great danger coming, the likes of which made him shudder. For the enemy of Mordor to return with such power was a terror that he didn't want to imagine.

Yet, according to Elrond, there was hope, and he held onto that idea furiously, even through the discussions that followed which focused so heavily on despair.

Even after the council, there was a definite sense of calm that surrounded and embodied him. His heart felt lighter, and he couldn’t help but wonder how it was that Elrond could have such an effect on him, whether soporific, frightful, or calming. 

“Now,” The lord said at last, his arms spreading in a grand gesture, “enough darkness. Let us have some food and song so we might stave off hopelessness, if only a little.”

The rest of the company gladly agreed.

~

The food and wine flowed as greatly as the conversation in the grand dining hall of Imladris, but the bothered father and son remained largely uncheered. They were seated right next to each other in an arrangement which made sense but was doing nothing to leaven the heaviness of their hearts. The happy discussions around them occasionally gathered laughs from them, but there was a constant unsettledness as they sat there, unwilling and incapable of facing or addressing each other. 

There was also unfortunately an undercurrent of sorrow that flowed throughout the dining company. The bleak horizon they looked onto, the news of the ever-greatening threat of Mordor, kept a piece of darkness in all of them, and while the liveliness of the room did help, there was still that incessant unease. 

~

The return to their rooms was a quiet one, a heavy contrast to the earlier company, a contrast they both relished and detested. They needed time to think, away from the noisy rabble. But there was also a great amount of displeasure at the idea of being alone with their thoughts. 

The shutting of the door echoed loudly behind them. They hadn’t spoken all day and Legolas was dying to break the silence. “Ada!” He freed his voice at last. Thranduil hesitated before turning to him. His face was unreadable. Very far from the expression the prince expected. “Are you not upset?” he asked, his surprise palpable. He had expected to enter a shouting match or at the least a bout of anger.

For an instant, the words brought a hint of a smile to the corners of Thranduil’s mouth, but a second later they were twisted, and his brows were furrowed. “Legolas, have you heard nothing Elrond has said?”

“Yes, Ada, but...”

“Of course I am upset.”

“But…”

Thranduil stared at him, his eyes swimming with something Legolas couldn’t quite detect. He looked deeply sorrowful, but it didn’t match the emotions of yesterday that he thought were the source of his troubles. This was not the look of the Thranduil who had run from him in what was either fear or disgust. “Legolas,” he warned with a turn of the head. Though what he was warning him against was a mystery to him.

The air then was hot and sticky and full of tension. Legolas just wanted to say something, to remove this horrible cloud that hung between them and barred them from even simple conversation. But Thranduil looked as if he might explode if his son said anything further. Yet he couldn’t turn away and run off. He was firmly planted in this inescapably awkward position.

It didn’t take long for Legolas to have had enough, as okay with the air as Thranduil seemed to be. He couldn’t take one more second of it and all he could do was blurt out, “I’m sorry!” He cringed greatly and moved to cover his face with his hands, but caught himself before he did, putting his hands down and instead looking at Thranduil straight on. “I’m so sorry.”

Legolas was utterly unprepared for the look of sorrow that tainted his father’s features. It wasn’t a sorrow for Mordor, or the future of his realm, or anything. It was a sorrow aimed at him. For him. 

Nor was he prepared for the steps Thranduil took towards him. Gentle, assuring steps that echoed brightly. His heart nearly stopped when he placed his hands on either side of his cheeks and brought a kiss to his forehead. “le ú’ohenathon,” he said softly, “ ú-vaur ennas na.” 

“But perhaps,” he continued, keeping his hands on his face. Legolas burned under them, and for a moment he thought he felt a surge of happiness, passing through the hands to him. His eyes fluttered shut, and that wonderful feeling only grew as Thranduil lifted his lips ever slightly from his forehead and ghosted down his nose. He could feel the breath on the spot above his lips, and then he felt the warmth of his mouth on his. The pressure of his lips, and the crushing tenderness he kissed him with. But it lasted only a second, as Thranduil pulled away, cutting the kiss short and leaving Legolas wanting more, so much more. “…you will forgive me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (approximate translations. Note: I figured these out myself so its VERY likely they're incorrect in any number of ways. If you consider yourself a scholar and see mistakes PLEASE tell me so I can learn) 
> 
> le ú’ohenathon. ú-vaur ennas na. : I will not forgive you. There is nothing to forgive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait! I am the worst at updating :(

The morning Legolas woke to was the strangest he had seen. He could feel his father’s fingertips tracing his skin, his lips surreptitiously kissing along his jaw, his neck, his chest…

And he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all a dream. Some terrible, demented, beautiful dream. But he knew it happened. It was so real- the heat of his hands against him, the dizzying words he breathed into his ear- he couldn’t have dreamed it all. But he was still having trouble believing that it happened.

Or understanding why it happened.

Or why the thought of it was already making him faintly aroused. 

It wasn’t as if Legolas were harboring feelings for his father. There was never any urge in him towards anything of that sort. But when he thought back to what happened, he knew without a doubt he regretted nothing. 

But still, he couldn’t help but wonder what was going to happen now. He knew that Thranduil could hardly be expected to keep a level head about this sort of thing. His stomach suddenly turned at the idea of facing him. 

With a sigh, he sat himself up in bed. He allowed his head to hang between his knees a few moments before fully lifting himself out of the covers and dragging himself out of the warm bed. Steadying himself, he went to the window. A fog had rolled in, dusting the peaks of Imladris with mist. It was almost dreary, but he couldn’t help but admire the way that it gave the valley a lonesome, but undeniably elegant feeling. 

He began to think of Elrond and what the plans for the rest of the stay would be as he thoughtlessly pulled on a silken tunic. 

~

As it turned out, there were no real set plans for the day. They met up with Elrond again early into the afternoon. There was a breeze in the air, but the fog had mostly cleared out and it was turning into what could almost be considered a nice day. So, they decided that the best course of action was to take a long walk. Thranduil seemed happy with the decision. He was humming pleasantly, a smile gracing his face as he enjoyed the nature around him. Legolas greatly appreciated the change from the previous day. He didn’t think he could take one more moment of that tenseness.

Elrond was babbling happily in his genial, but monotonous tone as usual, talking about this or that, or the history of something. He would occasionally make some sort of gesture, pointing something out, and Legolas would nod graciously. But he wasn’t listening. Not because he didn’t care- most of what Elrond spoke of was likely in truth very fascinating- but he couldn’t bring himself to pull his attention away from his father. For once, he was buzzing with energy and seeing it filled him with a certain ease and excitement that made it impossible for him to care about any monument to history. 

His eyes found his way to Thranduil when the king had his attention set on a large beech tree that acted as a canopy for quite an area. His shoulders were relaxed, his movements were smooth and dictated by nature rather than force, and his eyes were bright. Legolas smiled. He hadn’t seen him like this in so long. 

He forgot he was staring at one point, and he found Thranduil’s eyes back on him. They weren’t accusing though, or even questioning, silently asking why he was staring so intently. Instead they were just gentle and happy. He smiled at him and Legolas thought he felt his heart flutter.

Truthfully, he barely understood what was happening. 

Elrond finally turned back to face them, his story having ended. Thranduil commended his words and Legolas nodded in agreement. The lord seemed pleased with the response, but as he looked further at Thranduil, he found himself narrowing his eyes. “You seem different today,” he said in what seemed like an offhanded comment, but clearly caught this king off guard. He opened his mouth to reply, but Elrond continued before he could start, “Did I not tell you the valley would do you good?”

Thranduil laughed and then grumbled something about “restorative properties,” to which Elrond found himself laughing. It was an enjoyable exchange to watch, and for once, Legolas really felt grateful that he had the chance to come to the hidden valley.

It hit him suddenly though, that he realized he didn’t understand the change in Thranduil’s attitude. He was expecting anything else, anything but the scene he was watching unfold. It was strange to think that so much had changed since the day before, especially as he didn’t really feel the change in himself. He felt closer to his father, but the reality of what passed between them hadn’t quite hit him. It could have been because Thranduil was acting so nonchalant and natural. But it was most likely because there was a great part of him that didn’t want to even think about the night before or what any of it meant. If he were being honest, he would admit that he was afraid of the answer he would come up with. 

He was lightly prodded out of his repose as he felt a stray hand come down onto his neck, rubbing gently. When he realized it was Thranduil, who now stood behind him as he spoke to Elrond, he sunk into a feeling of utter ease, and a certain joy ran through him from the palm and long fingers that were drawing circles on his skin to his whole body. He focused on Elrond’s eyes and tried to follow the story that was occurring between the two of them, but found he was far too giddy to in any respect. 

He waited for a break in conversation before he looked up at Thranduil. He was still smiling, holding his shoulders, passively sending an incredible warmth through him. He felt a jolt in his heart when those crystal blue eyes glanced down and met his.

He couldn’t help but wonder what he was in for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so short! More to come though. I can't promise when I'll update, but I will be writing more!


	3. Úthaes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THAT I NEVER UPDATE

It wasn’t too long before one of Elrond’s counselors had come to inform the lord of an urgent matter that required his attention, leaving Legolas and Thranduil alone in the gardens. To Legolas’ relief, it was far better than the multitude of situations he had imagined in his mind where they were left alone and everything became uncomfortably awkward. Instead, it was rather peaceful. The air was sublime and the view was gorgeous. The warm gold of the flowers and leaves mixed with the cool hues of the distant mountains made for a perfect scene, and the two elves drank deeply of it. There was nothing of the sort in all of Eryn Lasgalen. 

But it seemed that even more than the foliage around them, the peace in the air seemed to be deriving from themselves, from the knowledge that there was a chance at happiness in them. And that they were willing to reach out to take it, to let it become a part of them. 

And the air had a distinct openness about it- as if they could say anything to each other. It was intimate and comfortable, and Legolas appreciated the feeling deeply. It was very strange though, and it felt foreign. Unimaginably pleasant, but very unfamiliar. 

The hands that held Legolas at his shoulders trailed his arms to his wrists and Thranduil wrapped his arms around his middle. “Legolas, I think you ought to know…” Thranduil began, his words so calm and open that they felt out of place coming from him. “That I apologize deeply for leaving so abruptly last night…”

Legolas nodded. He turned his head up towards Thranduil to glance at him and then leaned lazily against his chest.

“I couldn’t…Anything more would have been….” 

Legolas laughed gently, “I understand.”

“Dangerous,” Thranduil continued anyway, now resting his chin on Legolas’ head. Legolas hummed in response.

Glad that Legolas understood, he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to his cheek, drawing a heavy blush from him. Satisfied with the reaction, he continued kissing down his cheek, making Legolas’ smile grow more and more, until he got to the corner of his mouth. Legolas turned his head then in order to fully reciprocate.

He paused with a millimeter between their lips and looked up at his father, his eyes shining brightly with adoration. Thranduil growled softly, bringing their mouths together. The feeling forced Legolas’ eyes shut. It was so delectable he nearly missed the not-so-distant sound of boots crunching the leaves on the pathway.

Recognizing the warning of an approaching elf and realizing that they were in a fairly compromising position, they pulled apart immediately and took up casual poses, pretending that they really were just caught up in how the trees and flowers looked.

“False alarm,” Elrond said, faintly musically.

“What happened?” Thranduil asked with a casual air that Legolas had to stifle a laugh at. But he took pride in hearing that his voice had just enough breathlessness in it to be noticeable only to him. 

“Dwarves,” Elrond replied, amusement playing subtly on his face. Thranduil nodded in understanding.

“I must admit though,” The lord began, beckoning the two elves to follow him as he traipsed back through the pathway. They came eagerly, relieved that their earlier display went unnoticed and that they now had a distraction from each other. 

“It is very heartening to see that even on the brink of what might well be disaster, there is still merriment in the air. Like the leaves that remain passed autumn into winter, blessing the barren trees with hints of color.

“But you two must know that they fall eventually.” Legolas suddenly felt a pang in his heart and a sick feeling in his stomach. “And that worries me dearly.”

“Elrond,” Thranduil began, not wavered by the sudden emotion, “this is not something that you would just casually mention. Speak your mind.”

Elrond furrowed his brow, “Thranduil, the threat we are facing is nothing that can be ignored. We need to be looking at it with utmost gravity. And the dwarves, and my counselors even- “ 

It was strange seeing the lord so earnestly serious, with darkness shrouding his visage, when Legolas was so used to his genial expressions. It was almost frightening.

“I appreciate that hope is still so tightly wound in everyone’s chest, but what I’m seeing is dangerously close to reckless insensibility.

“And you…” He narrowed his eyes at Thranduil, “my friend, as much as I love your company, are doing me no good. This cause is greater than you can imagine, and you need to realize that.” With that, he stalked off faster than the two could, or wanted to follow. 

“Elrond!” Thranduil called to him in meek desperation, “Where is this even coming from?” No response came. With a heavy sigh, the elf king looked sympathetically at Legolas and sighed, “I have to go follow him. Entertain yourself in the meantime.” And he was off, and Legolas was left very confused under the canopy of the trees.

~

“Elrond, what is going on?” Thranduil said, finally catching up to him. 

Casually walking on, Elrond said simply, “You’re distracting me.” Thranduil could see his brows were furrowed. The fact that something could be bothering the elf so much was almost worrying.

“Stop being so cryptic,” Thranduil replied, in similar eloquence. 

Elrond turned his head to face him. “Do not take me for a fool, Thranduil. Some wrongs cannot be undone.” Thranduil felt the darkest shiver run through him at the words. At the moment he finished his final syllable, the Noldor snapped his head back from him, looking straight at the pathway.

“Elrond, these things cannot be said without explanation,” Thranduil said softly.

Still looking ahead, Elrond replied slowly, “The problem is that I can’t see. My eyes are muddled. I’m trying to see into the possible outcomes of this darkness from Mordor, but I keep getting thrown off by what’s going on around me. And the problem with that-“ He paused, pursing his lips and lowering his head a second before looking back up, “is that I am not sure what’s going on.”

Thranduil glanced at him, trying to read his glassy grey eyes.

“But I can feel something is off.”

“Are you sure this is not just the dwarves bothering you?” Thranduil attempted to laugh, but it got caught in his throat.

“It’s something.” Elrond sighed, folding his hands behind his back, “I didn’t mean to attack you, Thranduil. I apologize.”

“I understand,” Thranduil replied nervously, “but I truly hope I am not actually the one blinding you.”

Elrond managed to crack a slight smile, “me too.”

“Have you considered if it’s one of your advisors though?” Thranduil felt weak for passing the heat from him to the likely innocent advisors, but he felt worse under Elrond’s scrutiny.

“My advisors? I don’t see why they would. They are all very incorruptible…”

He felt a pit in the bottom of his stomach. Every word of Elrond’s just stabbed into him. It wasn’t as if he were actually talking about him, and it wasn’t as if he knew anything about Thranduil’s recent personal life, but he couldn’t help but feel so much like it.

“I mean, with Glorfindel, the idea is preposterous…”

And he didn’t know why Elrond would be so bothered even if he did know. It’s true that the kind of thing is frowned upon, but there are always proper exceptions. 

“Erestor though…”

But moreover, they hadn’t done anything. They kissed a few times and shared a few seconds of intimate space, but that was all. Could he be so faulted for that? It wasn’t as if any of it was unwanted, that was clear. But really, he truly was not even sure what grounds their relationship stood on. So if that was unknown to him, how could Elrond possibly know anything about it?

“You’re not listening, are you?”

“Not really.”

But more importantly, he absolutely needed to straighten things out with Legolas. They couldn’t keep going like this, having no idea what is going on. He could only imagine how much confusion Legolas must be going through if he himself was troubled and he felt horrible for it. 

“Thranduil,” Elrond grumbled with frustration, his finger and thumb resting now on the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly said, remembering that he was still technically discussing Elrond’s problems. “Where were we at?”

“Well, I don’t suppose it really matters. I’m much more intrigued by this anyway. What’s this that is so pressing on your mind?”

Thranduil sighed, “Matters of home.”

Elrond smiled sympathetically, “I know well how that goes. But try not to dwell on problems you have no way of solving, being away from home as you are.”

“Well, that wouldn’t be entirely accurate. These matters are solvable. I’m just not yet sure what way to go about it,” He paused, looking around the path as he gathered his thoughts, “You are right though- I suppose I really shouldn’t be dwelling on them.”

Elrond nodded. “Forcing solutions is generally a bad strategy.” He smiled and looked down at his feet before looking over at Thranduil, “I suppose that’s advice I should probably take myself.”

Thranduil laughed, “Sometimes the best advice is what we give ourselves.” Sometimes indeed.

~

Legolas stared off at the pathway until he saw Thranduil disappear to catch up with the apparently moody lord. When he was finally gone, he looked around at the garden. How exactly was he supposed to “entertain himself”? 

Of course, the trees and earth were always perfectly for quiet repose, providing the perfect meditative atmosphere. But he had too much spinning around in his mind for that. 

After a few seconds of searching for something to catch his eyes, he noticed a small pathway of stones nestled among the greenery leading south. With no reservations, he decided to follow it.

It couldn’t have been used very often because it was very overgrown. Every other second, Legolas had to move overhanging branches from his face. At one point he could no longer see where he was going because there was so much ivy covering the path. 

But having likely walked a quarter of a mile, Legolas came to a gorgeous clearing. It was a wonder why no one seemed to visit the place very often. Bright grass and pink and gold flowers littered the floor, and the circle of golden trees made it feel like a faerie ring. And in the exact middle, there was a small, clear pond. 

He stepped over to it, careful not to trample too many of the flowers. He looked down into the water and was very surprised to see nothing. Not the reflection of the trees or his own. But when he looked deeply into it, he could faintly see his outline. Curious, he kneeled beside the pool, putting his face right above the water. From this close, he could see himself, but it didn’t look exactly like him. He looked…different. More worn.

As if unable to resist, he slowly dove his head under the water. With his eyes still open, he saw much more than he expected. The water quickly transformed into another plane of vision, and he saw what looked like a dream.

He was there, as well as several other people he didn’t recognize. It was strange- he seemed to not only be able to see it, but feel it. Instead of the cold water, he felt the warmth of a summer breeze, the slight heaviness of the weighty bag he was carrying, and an odd and dragging feeling of loneliness. He could tell he was very far from home.

With a gasp for air, he jerked himself out of the water. He looked down at the pool. His reflection was normal. He suddenly felt he couldn’t understand much of anything, and wondered if that was why no one came here.

He knew that the vision couldn’t have been real. The water must have been enchanted in some way, either to tell lies or to tell the future. With a minute of thinking over what he saw, he hoped desperately that it was the former. He had never had such an awful feeling of loneliness. It was like a hole in him, an icy yet burning heartache. He never wanted that feeling to actually course through him.

He knew he had to find Elrond though. He could tell him what this was and whether or not it was any sort of real. And he knew that if he didn’t ask him, his mind would keep racing, unable to keep from thinking about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM ALSO SORRY FOR CLIFFHANGERS. I WILL TRY TO UPDATE BUT I PROMISE NOTHING
> 
> Sindarin notes:  
> úthaes* [ˈuːθɑɛs] n. inducement to do  wrong,  temptation  
> [Hiswelókë's Sindarin dictionary (Edition 1.6, Lexicon 0.993)]


End file.
